Angels on the Ceiling
by kazillion
Summary: The DPS boys and their new addition, Elizabeth, are ever-so-coolly taking over Welton.
1. Cruel and Unusual

With a heavy sigh she continued swinging her feet out of sheer boredom. This was the last place she wanted to be. And, from the looks on everyone else's faces, she wasn't alone in that sentiment. She sighed again.  
  
The woman next to her clucked her tongue in an attempt to hush her restless daughter. Obligingly, the legs stopped swinging. Instead of at her mother, the girl's scowl was pointed toward her short legs – sitting with her back flush to the bench, her feet didn't touch the floor. She slid forward until they did, glancing around the room for the twelfth time that morning.  
  
_I don't have enough of an attention span for this._  
  
As if hearing her thought, the shrill cry of a bagpipe pierced through her skull, putting a stop to any and all unwanted comments of disrespect.  
  
Everyone in the room turned their heads simultaneously to watch the procession walk to the front of the room. Elizabeth McGowan winced as the boy insisted on continuing the wailing of his instrument. Normally she didn't mind its music – but in such close proximity and in such a room it seemed cruel and unusual punishment.  
  
The line of headmaster, boys and banners finally reached the head of the room and the playing ceased.  
  
_Oh, thank god._  
  
Mr. Nolan stood at the podium. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys; the light of knowledge."  
  
Another man lit a boy's candle as an organ played.  
  
The girl muttered under her breath. "Wow, this isn't cheesy at all, is it?" Her mother chuckled, but hushed her still the same.  
  
Mr. Nolan continued. "One hundred years ago, in 1859, 41 boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that greets you at the start of each semester. Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?"  
  
She watched as all of the boys in the room quickly stood like zombies and recited, "Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence." Just as quickly, they sat.  
  
Her snicker snort was barely contained. At a glance from her mother, she whispered, "He didn't even think to ask the girls, now, did he?"  
  
The speech continued. "In her first year, Welton Academy graduated five students. Last year we graduated fifty-one. And more than seventy-five percent of those went on to the Ivy League." Applause. Elizabeth noticed her mother did not clap. Mr. Nolan interrupted the noise. "This, this kind of accomplishment is the result of fervent dedication to the principles taught here. This is why you parents have been sending us your sons. This is why we are the best preparatory school in the United States." More cheering from the parents.  
  
_Bah, humbug._  
  
"They're sending their daughters now, too, you know," she mumbled. Another snicker from her mother, ever the independent woman. "Jeez, Mum, do you think he's even going to mention that?"  
  
A gloved hand lightly tapped her thigh. "Hush, Lizzy, or you'll miss it when he does."  
  
With another sigh, her attention was drawn to the headmaster.  
  
"As you know, our beloved Mr. Portius of the English department retired last term. You will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement, Mr. John Keating," he said as the new teacher stood. Heads craned around any obstacles to catch a glimpse of the newcomer as Mr. Nolan mentioned the man's scholastic history.  
  
More applause.  
  
"This is getting rather repetitive, don't you think?" The comment received a warning look from her mother. "Hey, you're the one who raised me – my inability to keep comments to myself is entirely your own fault."  
  
This time it was her mother who sighed. "Yes, dear, all my fault."  
  
When the crowd went silent again, Mr. Nolan cleared his throat. "Now, as you are all likely aware, our school board has decided to make this year the beginning of Welton's coeducational program. Beginning with the semester, we have eighteen young ladies joining us in our quest for higher education."  
  
Elizabeth grinned as a few of the hormonal lads cheered louder than they probably should have in front of their parents.  
  
This time is was her mother who made the offside comment. "I'm not going to have to worry about you here, am I?"  
  
The girl laughed. "Don't worry – all the boys I've known go for the leggy blondes," she said as she swung her feet and shook her brown locks.  
  
For the last time that day the headmaster silenced the crowd, just before everyone was dismissed.  
  
Welton Academy, for boys alone no longer. 


	2. To Be Saved

With practiced agility, the seventeen year old girl cracked the bones in her neck, hands and shoulders as her mother, walking beside her, cringed.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't do that. It creeps me out. It sounds like your head is going to pop off," the older woman said disapprovingly. Her daughter's only response was a smile, having heard the same thing for years.  
  
As they followed the masses of Nolan lecture survivors, Elizabeth noticed the beads of sweat forming underneath her starched collar. Scratching at the irritated skin she wondered off-handedly how anyone could possibly stand wearing clothes like this on a daily basis.   
  
With boys chattering wildly around her and adults brushing angrily by, she kept close to her mother's side, trusting her to get the two of them safely out of the crowded hallway. Curious as to how much further freedom was, she bounced up on her toes in a feeble attempt at looking over heads.  
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Jessie McGowan muttered when brought to a standstill. While her daughter was vertically challenged, she herself wasn't much better off, standing tall at five foot four. Channeling her sixteen-year-old self, the forty-some year old woman bent her knees and jumped as high as she could considering she was surrounded by financially superior aristocrats.  
  
A woman standing nearby gave a wide-eyed glance in their direction and started pushing her way through the crowd. Her friends and family followed suit.  
  
"Oh. There. See? We're moving." Jessie smoothed her skirt, as her daughter looked on with an amused smile, then turned forward and shuffled with the rest of them.  
  
Elizabeth knew they were nearing the door when she took a deep breath through her nose.  
  
_Ah, the scent of fresh, non-scholastic air._  
  
A gruff, male voice invaded her thoughts of climbing the nearby tree. Mr. Nolan himself was blocking the doorway making pleasantries, greeting old friends and new students. Shamelessly eavesdropping, the girl caught the next conversation of two parents and their unsuspecting child.  
  
The father shook the headmaster's hand, commenting, "Thrilling ceremony as usual Dr. Nolan."  
  
_Oh, please._  
  
His wife greeted the older man as well, and introduced her son, Todd. Nolan deepened his pitch to accommodate for his warning, Do-Not-Let-Me-Down-Or-You-Will-Seriously-Regret-It voice.  
  
"Mr. Anderson. You have some big shoes to fill young man. Your brother was one of our finest."  
  
Elizabeth's eyes shot up in time to see a blonde boy avert his eyes, nod shyly in acknowledgement and say, "Thank you."   
  
Her heart ached for him, having had that inferior disposition as a child. She prayed silently to whomever was listening that he wouldn't become consumed by responsibility and self-doubt. Perhaps she'd see him later and get him to loosen up a bit.  
  
Jessie tapped her daughter on the shoulder, whispering to her, "See if you can use your magic and get him to relax, will you?" Then a wink.  
  
Elizabeth smiled. Sometimes she could swear her mother was psychic. Perhaps all mothers were.  
  
Continuing the escape of the Grand Hallway of Doom, the pair was caught behind yet another family. Nolan and the other man exchanged first names in a chum-like fashion. A dark haired, dark eyed boy lent his greetings as well.  
  
"Neil, we expect great things from you this year."  
  
A smile to please. "Thank you, sir."  
  
A glance from his father. "Well, he won't disappoint us. Right, Neil?"  
  
A nod to please. "I'll do my best, sir."  
  
They moved on. Elizabeth found herself on the edge of freedom and was about to take a step over when she found that her mother was shaking hands with Mr. Nolan as all the other parents had done.  
  
She had lost her to the dark side.  
  
_Fine. Two can play this game._ With the smile she has seen on Neil, she shook hands with the headmaster as well.  
  
"And this is my daughter, Elizabeth. One of the first girls to attend your fine school." Her mother smiled the killer smile she had used to win her father over with years ago.  
  
Mr. Nolan glared at the young woman. "Young lady, are you prepared to do your absolute best here at Welton?" With a scrutinizing eye he impatiently awaited the correct answer.  
  
An answer which Elizabeth promptly gave. "Sir, I know how to do nothing less."  
  
Her mother gave a small smile as Nolan curtly nodded. "Well. See that it's done." With that he looked away, signaling the abrupt end of the conversation.  
  
Finally free from the clutches of Superior-Education-Is-Only-For-Boys Man, Elizabeth grinned at her mother and took a deep breath of dust-free air. Life always seemed better outside.  
  
Her mother laughed at her performance. "See, that didn't kill you. Think you can put up with these 'pompous asses' for a few years?" she asked, using the phrase her daughter had used in her adamant arguments of not attending Welton.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure I can bring them around to my way of thinking," she said offhandedly, noticing a tearful young boy hugging his mother.  
  
_I know just how you feel, kid._  
  
"As long as you don't get into trouble. I want no negative phone calls saying my daughter is a delinquent."  
  
"Alright, how about a positive one?"  
  
Her mother glowered playfully. "Lizzy..."  
  
The girl laughed and gave in. "Alright, alright. No phone calls. Now, where to next in my own personal hell?"  
  
Her mother led the way, having been to Welton before, not in attendance but in visitation. Jessie's brother and eldest son has attended Welton. Elizabeth knew Welton was a good school, and she felt comforted knowing her older brother had survived, but she had wanted to carve her own path. But perhaps being a girl at Welton was carving enough.  
  
While she walked, Elizabeth looked at the environment around her, wondering if it would abuse her. Wondering if it would turn her into a performing monkey like it had to...  
  
To...  
  
The second boy she had seen.   
  
She sighed. Already she had forgotten his name.   
  
Honestly, sometimes her memory was worse than her mother's was. 


	3. Intriguing Development

Girls.  
  
Girls at Welton.  
  
Charlie Dalton was ecstatic.  
  
Granted, there were only eighteen in the entire school, which meant only a few to each grade level, but girls nonetheless.  
  
And one of them was sitting next to him in all her femininity casually nibbling at the end of her pencil and listening to Hager threaten the class with trigonometry homework. Light streaming in from the windows almost blinded him by reflecting off of her golden hair, but what better vision to lose his sight to?  
  
Life was good.  
  
As Hager's back was turned, Charlie turned around in his seat to face Neil. With an exaggerated gesture and his well-known grin, he pointed out the beautiful creature to his best friend as if every other boy in the class hadn't done so already. Granted, there was another girl behind Neil himself, but she wasn't sitting next to Charlie the sex god or she'd be on the receiving end of his Dalton leers - leers no girl could possibly resist.  
  
No one could ever say he suffered from self-esteem issues.  
  
He made an hourglass figure with his hands to the other boy, hissing his obvious approval of the seating chart. Neil just smiled as he always did when Charlie was excited and looked down at his notes, copying down the foreign language from the blackboard and trying to ignore the fact that Hager would hand out demerits to the both of them when the man turned back around.  
  
Demerits on the first day. His father certainly would not be pleased at that.  
  
Not that his father is ever pleased with anything anyway.  
  
After Charlie finally turned back around, Neil stared blankly at the lined paper, waiting for it to tell him the secret of how to win his father's respect. Or at least the meaning of sine. Someone behind him sneezed, and the sharp noise was followed by a tiny, "Bless you." Neil turned his head just in time to see an embarrassed Todd turn scarlet at his unwelcome outburst and become unusually fascinated by the spiral of his notebook.  
  
_Poor guy_, Neil thought. _A sneeze is probably the loudest thing to ever come out of him_. He watched as his roommate traced invisible patterns on the desktop with burning ears and a turned away face.  
  
It was then that he realized the girl behind him had been the one who spoke. With a discrete movement of his eyes, he was looking at her, and found his female classmate writing in a notebook not designated for Trig and stealing glances at none other than Todd Anderson.  
  
Well this was an intriguing development.  
  
Maybe this year would be okay.  
  
Neil smiled to himself. If nothing else, he had girls to keep him company.  
  
A gruff cough from the front of the room made his head snap back into place. He watched wide-eyed as Hager glared at him making the entire class aware of his misbehaviour. Though the man said nothing, and no demerits were given, he glared at the boy periodically throughout the class. At the end, Neil was only too happy to dash out of the room at the sound of the relief bell.  
  
Charlie jogged to catch up with him, chuckling to himself. "Couldn't resist staring, could you, Perry? You know as well as I do that Hager isn't thrilled about the chicks, so try not to give him reason to throw them out, will you? It'll ruin this scholastic year for the rest of us," he added with his Charlie grin.  
  
Neil felt a tightening at the base of his throat. While Charlie had been his best friend since he could remember, it was the grin he had learned to look out for.  
  
Externally, Neil smiled. "It's not my eyes they need to worry about – it's your hands."  
  
Charlie's teeth flashed. "Hey, it's not _my_ fault if I'm irresistible. We should really worry if they," he pointed to a girl walking past, "can refrain from mauling _me_."  
  
Knox Overstreet, having been walking behind the two and overhearing the conversation interjected his two cents with a witty, "Yeah, right, Dalton. In your fantasies."  
  
Coming up on their right was the infamous Steven Meeks, Genius Extraordinaire, with his red curls bobbing as he held a folded piece of paper in front of him. "So guys, looks like English is next?"  
  
Neil shifted his pile of books so he didn't loose them unpleasantly to the floor and nodded. "Yeah, with that new guy. Keating?"  
  
"He looks a little young to be teaching, doesn't he?" Knox asked. Apparently the others thought it rhetorical, for no one responded.  
  
Charlie felt a hard elbow connect to his right side. Angry, he shouted, "Hey! You little..." and pivoted on the ball of his foot to see his attacker.  
  
A girl.  
  
Fancy that.  
  
Because she was walking more quickly than the boys were, she had to look behind her to offer an apology. Before her very eyes, she saw a red-faced Charlie go from upset and bruised to delighted and cocky.  
  
Both she and the boys had stopped in the middle of the corridor, and with flashing grey eyes, Elizabeth walked confidently up to the inflated ego.  
  
"I'm sorry, you didn't get the chance to finish your sentence. Little what?"  
  
Charlie's smile went away. This was not going to end well.  
  
Though he couldn't even see the opposing party (Neil makes a better door than a window), Knox knew his friend well enough to know when he was caught between a rock and a hard place. With his most polite voice, he interjected.  
  
"He was just mad, but he's sorry and will never say it again." Silently, he knew this was mostly likely not the case, but if he didn't fix this now, they'd never get to class on time.  
  
Both Charlie and Neil noticed the wondering look that came over the girl's face as Knox continued. "Now if you'll excuse us, we really need-"  
  
"Knox?" She grinned. "Knox Overstreet?"  
  
The towering boy shoved his way around his friends to see a grinning brunette. His body went numb and his mind leapt with excitement at the sight of his childhood friend. "Lizzy! Oh my god, what... I... You're here!"  
  
"Thank you Captain Obvious."  
  
Knox laughed, handed his books over to a perplexed Charlie and enveloped the girl in a friendly hug. Which of them pulled back first was unclear, but after they had separated Knox took her by her hand, asking, "What have you got next? English?"  
  
A nod. "Indeed. With Keating."  
  
"Fantastic. You can sit by me."  
  
With that, the pair walked away, leaving Charlie, Neil and Meeks staring on silently. Meeks looked around for a moment before walking towards class without a word. Neil glanced at Charlie, shrugged, and followed suit, leaving Charlie to stand in the hallway, wondering what had just happened.  
  
Grumbling to himself, he begrudgingly carried two massive sets of books to class, curious as to how _Knox_ got the girl.  
  
Whatever. He'd get the next one.


	4. Seize the Rosebuds

For the first time since her mother had left her at Welton Elizabeth felt comfortable in her own skin. Earlier she had been avoiding glares and come- ons, wishing more than anything to escape. She had been dreading today, the first day of classes, for months now. Her bravado and cleverness slid between her fingers and left her to fend for herself.  
  
Now with Knox, she felt herself regaining her figurative footing. After walking into the classroom, he chose the second to last seat in the row closest to the windows and set her down in the seat in front of him. While Neil, Charlie and the others seated themselves, Knox continued gabbing (even ignoring the glare Charlie gave him while banging the books he had been forced to carry onto Knox's desk).  
  
"So how have you been? How are your brothers, your mother? What about the family that moved into my old house – are they weird? Did they change the house?" He paused, his grin sliding from his face. "And...Ethan? Is he doing any better?"  
  
Sitting next to the new girl, Neil's ears perked up at the name. Knox had mentioned an Ethan a few times last year, a boy who had been his closest friend. Some time after Thanksgiving Ethan's name had disappeared, leaving Neil to wonder what had happened.  
  
The young girl smiled faintly. "It hasn't gotten any better." At the look on Knox's sullen face she amended quickly, "He hasn't gotten any worse either, though. Just not better. But he's all right. We're used to it now." She smiled again. "We miss having you around the house. You were always a form of entertainment."  
  
Knox chuckled. "I'm afraid my younger self pales in comparison to my current friends. Charlie, for example," he said as he leaned back, gesturing to the boy sitting behind him, "Last year, just before winter break, covered all of the doorknobs with lotion and the bathroom mirrors with shaving cream."  
  
Charlie, who was sitting back casually and slouched in his chair doodling in his notebook, gave a sly grin, remembering all of the other gray hairs he'd given Nolan with his antics. Elizabeth stared at him, a curious light in her eyes. When Charlie noticed, he looked directly at her as if challenging her to doubt his audacity. The mischievous glint he received made him wonder briefly if he had met his match.  
  
"Hey, Knox man!"  
  
Knox's head shot up to find Vaughn Taylor waving at him from a few rows over. He grinned, said a brief, "Excuse me," to his companions and went to ask his old Biology lab partner about his summer.  
  
Neil flinched as a piece of balled up paper sailed past his ear and looks behind him toward Charlie, the usual suspect. Instead of wadding up loose paper, as he usually was, his best friend was busy by other means. Elizabeth had turned around and was leaning against Knox's desk, for she and Charlie seemed to be engaged in a sort of staring contest. Charlie's face portrayed his signature, unmovable smirk, while hers contorted into various humourous positions. Once, her challenger wavered, nearly breaking into laughter.  
  
Both were unaware of the boy watching them. He had what seemed to be an entertained smile on his face, yet there was a pang of jealousy in his stomach. Not that the bizarre competition was the beginning of a marriage ritual, but when Charlie wanted something he didn't know how to stop before he'd gotten it.  
  
Ugh. Maybe bringing girls into the mix wasn't so smart after all.  
  
The dark eyed boy swiveled back to face the front of the chalky classroom just in time to catch Todd looking out of place and lonely in the front corner. He sighed to himself. That boy would come out of his shell if Neil had to pry it open with a crowbar.  
  
It was then the whistling started. Knox darted back to his seat as everyone faced the front and straightened out for Keating's surprise attack from the front room.  
  
With a look in his eyes similar to Charlie's, the confidant man strolled nonchalantly through the aisles, eyeing up his new victims. Whistling the 1812 Overture, he gradually made it to the back of the room and through the door opening into the hallway, disappearing from sight.  
  
Everyone's eyes shifted, looking to fellow classmates for a clue as to what to do. Luckily, the abandoning teacher poked his head back into the classroom and answered their silent questions with a, "Well, come on."  
  
Reluctantly books were gathered. Neil gave a shrug at Meeks' arched eyebrows, grabbed his Lit book and led the boys into the hallway. Knox caught up with Vaughn, silently finishing their earlier conversation.  
  
Clutching he clipboard, Keating stopped in front of the trophy case, a source of pride for Hager and the rest of the administrators.  
  
"'Oh Captain, My Captain.' Who knows where that comes from?" His eyes shone as he waited for a guess.  
  
To Neil's left, Knox's girl friend shuffled her feet and looked down toward the floor, whispering, "Whitman."  
  
As if to prove her correct, the strange, new teacher from London confirmed, "It's from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln."  
  
Neil shot a look at the timid teenage girl who was standing arm's length away from everyone. So was she book smart, or perhaps just lucky in the random trivia area? He took it upon himself to find out, sooner or later.  
  
At her answer's confirmation she gave a tiny smile to the freshly waxed floorboards and glanced back up, head tilted slightly. Subconsciously, Neil tilted his head as well, wondering what she was thinking about that very moment.  
  
The teacher's words brought him back to reality, adding on, "In this class you can call me Mr. Keating. Or, if you're slightly more daring, Oh Captain, My Captain." Each of the boys gave a barely audible chuckle at that.  
  
Well, everyone except Richard Cameron, who was busy writing down notes from the unorganized way the man spoke, jumbling Lincoln and Whitman and Captain without knowing why.  
  
Keating went on. "Now let me dispel a few rumors so they don't fester into facts. Yes, I too attended Hell-ton – and survived." The students seemed rather relieved at that, he noticed. "And no, at that time I was not the mental giant you see before you. I was the intellectual equivalent of a ninety-eight pound weakling. I would go to the beach and people would kick copies of Byron in my face."  
  
Cameron's face started to match his red hair. What sort of teacher talks about themselves on the first day? What about the syllabus?  
  
On the other side of the huddle of students was Elizabeth, silently quoting to herself, 'I had a dream which was not all a dream.' Byron, naturally.  
  
Nearby was Neil, laughing with everyone else while simultaneously wondering why the girl was smiling again.  
  
In front of the two of them, a shy boy shifted the weight on his legs, stomach clenching at the sight of a teacher about to call off a random name from the class list.  
  
"Now, Mr... Pitts. That's a rather unfortunate name. Mr. Pitts, where are you?"  
  
Todd breathed a sigh of relief as Gerard Pitts raised his hand and the others chuckled again. The nearness of being called upon sent white spots dancing in front of his eyes. Somewhere in the back of his panicked mind he knew Pitts was talking, questioning the title of the poem he was to read.  
  
"'To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time'?"  
  
"That's the one."  
  
Pitts swallowed and started to read. "'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, old time is still a-flying...'"  
  
Neil watched the girl again. This time, however, his gaze did not go unnoticed. She met his eyes curiously, gave a small nod and averted her attention back to the teacher, who was talking once again.  
  
"The Latin term for that sentiment is Carpe Diem. Now, who knows what that means?"  
  
Naturally, Meeks the genius knew. Seize the day. The Latin scholar.  
  
Keating continued. "Seize the day. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may. Why does the writer use these lines?"  
  
Charlie, the wise ass interjected, "Because he's in a hurry."  
  
Keating imitated a game show buzzer indicating the wrong answer. Elizabeth noticed Charlie's amusement with the new teacher.  
  
"Thank you for playing, anyway." Keating looked around intensely. "Because we are food for worms lads." Just as Elizabeth was about to correct him, he added, "And lady," with a gesture in her direction. Neil hid a smile from her obvious pleasure of being included. "Because, believe it or not, each and every one of us in this room is one day going to stop breathing, turn cold, and die."  
  
Todd held his breath.  
  
Keating pulled them all over to the trophy case, filled with trophies, footballs and old pictures of past Welton boys, asking them to closely observe the faces of the past.  
  
Much to her dismay, Elizabeth got caught in the back, unable to see anything due to the horde of taller boys in front of her. However, just before she resigned herself to stay out of the activity, she felt a hand on the small of her back. Looking over her shoulder she observed a snickering Knox just as he picked her up by her waist and set her in front of the glass casing between him and Neil. She elbowed his playfully as a thank you.  
  
When Keating spoke again, the lighthearted tone changed to a more serious one. "They're not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you. Their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because you see, gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in."  
  
As if they were worried about being set up for a practical joke, the class cautiously did so.  
  
In a gruff, ghostly voice Keating whispered, "Carpe. Carpe Diem. Seize the day, kids. Make your lives extraordinary."  
  
Cameron was confused. Pitts looked wide-eyed at a boy in a picture that looked like him. Meeks scanned the faces and wondered. Todd's eyes wandered around worriedly. Charlie had his content, know-it-all smirk. Neil's head tilted to one side as he considered. Knox exhaled the breath he had been holding. Elizabeth had a sardonic smile.  
  
The faces in the frames stared back. 


	5. The One That Got Away

Boys clamored as sandwiches were scooped up and inhaled during lunch break. Due to being vastly outnumbered, all of the girls seemed to cluster together in one corner of the dining room. All except one.  
  
Across the room seven boys sat at their long table, with one seat vacant, for Knox had talked his friends into saving it just in case. In case of what, he didn't say, but nobody needed clarification.  
  
The lunch was entwined with light and casual conversation. Of course, Charlie Dalton had to put an end to that as soon as he had swallowed.  
  
"So, Knox, are you ever going to introduce us to the little fireball from your past?" Charlie asked, passing the breadbasket to his left. "Did she break your heart after a torrid romance?"  
  
Knox burst out laughing. Neil's amused smile surfaced as Knox clarified, "Lizzy and I? Torrid romance? You've got to get a grip on reality, Charlie, if that's what you think." As if the end of his answer, he shoved the semi- turkey sandwich into his mouth and ripped off a leathery piece while Charlie looked on expectantly.  
  
"Well? What about her, then?"  
  
Reveling in the curious attention, the taller boy chewed slowly, acutely cognizant of the seven pairs of eyes awaiting his knowledge of the female newcomer. Even Todd was outwardly displaying his rapt interest. Knox inwardly chuckled. If only Lizzy knew how exciting she was to the male students.  
  
"If you must know, I used to be good friends with her brother. The best, in fact. We lived down the street from one another. She was just the obnoxious older sister of my best friend, and I was the irritating friend of her little brother. That's all we were to one another. I was another brother to her."  
  
There was a chorus of sympathetic groans from the others. A girl thinking of a guy as a brother was a dead end to the relationship.  
  
Knox nodded. "Yeah, tell me about it. I was infatuated with her for a whole year." He saw Meeks give him a pitying look and added on with a comical smile, "I was eleven at the time. I'm pretty over her."  
  
Pitts snorted. "Yeah literally."  
  
Knox shook his head. "I'd watch that around her, Pittsie. She's awfully touchy about her height. Especially since I shot past her. She's rather competitive." He looked at Charlie. "She told me she's on the soccer team, too, by the way." He grinned. "She's a forward."  
  
Charlie scoffed. "Well I hope for her sake she's on my side, otherwise she'll have to get past my expert blockage. And no one gets past Charlie the Wall," he said, pointing toward himself with his thumb.  
  
The others mocked his so-called expertise (not to mention his horribly unoriginal nickname), except for Todd, who continued chewing in silence while staring at the polished tabletop.  
  
Wiping the crumbs from his face using the back of his hand, Knox glanced toward the tables where the girls were seated. "I wonder where she is. I haven't seen her since Keating's class."  
  
A sharp sound emitted from Charlie's nose. "She probably got lost." With a shake of his head he added, "Girls have no sense of direction."  
  
It was Meeks' turn to snort. "What do _you_ know about girls?"  
  
"I know plenty more than you, that's for sure."  
  
Pitts laughed. "That's not saying much."  
  
Loud, obnoxious bells rang to demonstrate the end of the lunch period. Each of the boys disposed of their respective plates and followed the herd into the hallways. While Cameron loved to dart madly to his next room, it had always been a custom for the five other Welton juniors to take a stroll through the courtyard (or the hallways, if it were cold or raining outside) after lunch.  
  
Neil swatted at his roommate's arm. "Hey Todd, you can come with, if you want." Silently, he hoped the boy would agree. Todd needed to get out there and get to know the other guys. Hell, even Neil barely knew him. If he could only get him just a little more comfortable around everyone, then perhaps Todd would open up. He'd settle for just one childhood story. Just one, and he'd leave his sandy-haired roommate alone.  
  
Todd hadn't yet decided if he liked hearing the sound of someone saying his name. Before it he had been known as The Other Anderson or Jeffrey's brother. At Balincrest, even, he had been a shadow of a ghost, pale and silent, keeping eye contact with the floor at all times. Never meet anyone's' eyes, that was his rule. When you did that, they knew. Sometimes he would allow himself to, so someone _would_ know. And maybe they did. But nobody would do anything. They would say a noncommittal thing and walk away, ignoring the false hope in the boy's eyes.  
  
But Neil was a different story. He could tell his roommate wanted to help but was at a loss for how. So the best he could do, right then, was to invite him for a saunter.  
  
Later, Todd would mentally kick himself for replying with a stumbling, "N- no, thanks. M-maybe some other time."  
  
Later still, Neil would mentally kick himself for letting Todd get away. 


	6. Red

As Todd was slipping through Neil's attempts at including him, a lone girl sat on the cold ground beneath an ancient maple tree to the side of the courtyard. Leaning against the rough trunk, Elizabeth chewed on the end of her pen – yet another bad habit her mother disapproved of.

She blearily looked down at the notebook in her lap. She'd never get the story finished. And the poem, it was still missing something. It seemed so blasé compared to her other works.

She snorted not-so-delicately. (Surely, her mother would disapprove of that, too.) Her works? Her mind used the term loosely, throwing it around carelessly, making it sound as if she, too, could be included among the greats. She was far from it.

Still, it was fun to pretend.

With a smile and a shrug, she closed the worn pad and looked up, resting the crown of her head on the tree. A passing breeze caused the leaves to sigh, and Elizabeth to close her eyes. This was home. No matter where she was, if she could be outside, she was home.

It made her feel some comfort in the topsy-turvy world. Not to mention, some time to think in peace.

She doubted her roommate thought much at all. Twirling her perfect hair around her pinkie, giggling at the slightest comment or gesture made by a male specimen, her roommate wasn't the best example of a girl who was challenged.

_It's disgusting. I can't believe guys go for that._

Tilting her head slightly to the right (another habit, yet it was one she could get away with), Elizabeth ran through the list of the guys she had met (and could remember). Would any of them go for the stereotype?

Knox? Possibly. But he'd get over her looks pretty quickly once he found there wasn't much substance in her head to back it all up.

Charlie? Probably. He might even be the male version of the airhead, albeit considerably more entertaining. Elizabeth made a mental note to show the boy up at some point. His ego needed deflating before he could no longer fit through a doorway.

Neil? Nah. He's probably picky about that sort of thing. Or, at the very least, too distracted to think of girls.

Todd? Elizabeth sighed. Todd. To her, he seemed to constantly want to be somewhere else. Was he daydreaming of his love back home, per chance? Had he been terribly heartbroken? Was that why he hardly spoke, fearful of making a friendship only to lose it?

It was likely she was reading too much into it, and dramatically romanticizing the boy, and she should have stopped going down that mental path before she created a traumatizing past for him.

But what's the fun in that?

"Heads up!"

_Oh, honestly._

The loner by the tree looked up just in time to see a soccer ball sailing toward her delicate facial features. Whilst her roommate would have squealed and ducked her head, Elizabeth, instead, threw her precious notebook onto the ground, stood up and caught the airborne sphere just before impact.

A whistle drew her attention to the group of boys walking toward her. She grinned at them.

Soccer. Now _that_ she could definitely handle.

The leader of the group smiled nicely at her. "Hey, could you toss that here? If you can't, at least hand it or roll it to me."

The girl's eyebrows smushed together in disbelief. Did the redheaded boy honestly insinuate that she wouldn't be able to handle a simple soccer ball? That she couldn't even _throw_?

With a cheeky grin, she gave a half-running start (startling the three boys into jumping backwards), dropped the ball and kicked it with all of her might.

The ball made it back to the rest of the players still on the field, a good 50 yards away.

She noticed the boys swallow hard and continued her grinning, being sure to add in a batting of the eyelashes for good measure. Oh, her brothers would be so proud.

Elizabeth waited patiently for the boys to gain control over their minds and mouth, and was rewarded when the boy to the left of the redhead managed to squeak out a breathy, "Wow."

"Wow is right!" A boisterous voice suddenly boomed from behind her, making her heart race in surprise. "Lizzy's only the best girl soccer player in the northern hemisphere!"

She laughed at Knox as he and his friends walked toward her. "Excuse me, thankyouverymuch, but I'm more of a woman than a girl now, I'll have you know."

Both she and Knox pretended not to notice Charlie muttering an, "I'll say," to Neil under his breath.

The redhead from the other group advanced towards her, his two cronies tagging behind him. "So, you're on the team, right? I mean... you have to be."

She nodded. "Yeah, I am. On a team, anyway, I'm not sure how this whole thing works. Do we play one another or other schools?"

"Both. There are usually two or sometimes three teams that the school has, and we scrimmage one another in practice, but play as one when we play other schools." Neil was secretly very pleased with himself, that he finally talked to her, even if it was just to answer a simple question.

However, he grimaced mentally as the others continued marveling over far she had kicked the ball ("Especially in those shoes!" Pitts admired). It was the first thing he had said to her, and he had said it with the same eager tone he answered the teachers with. He shuddered to think what she thought of him, now.

Forcing his nonchalant smile to return, Neil wondered why he was getting himself all worked up over some girl that friend knew. Obviously, he was envious; he wasn't in denial about that. He was jealous that Knox had known her so long before, and that he could talk to her and touch her as a friend, whilst Neil, himself, did not yet have either of those rights. Charlie he envied because his best friend didn't turn red when he was embarrassed, and didn't embarrass easily, anyway. He was suave and cheeky and fearless and determined. He got what he wanted. And though Neil wasn't sure it was Elizabeth who Charlie wanted, is didn't matter anyway. Elizabeth seemed drawn to the troublemaker, which also made Neil wonder what kind of person this girl was.

"Psst." Neil flinched and looked to his right. Meeks was smirking at him knowingly.

Nervous (was Meeks psychic?), he replied with, "What?"

Meeks snickered. "You were staring." Neil furrowed his eyebrows. So? Meeks sighed and added, "At her."

At this, Neil panicked. Had everyone noticed? Looking around, it looked as though the others, Elizabeth included, were still in soccer mode.

Meeks laughed again. Neil had to keep himself from smacking him in his embarrassment. "Don't worry," the brilliant boy semi-consoled. "She didn't notice. Anything you'd like to share with the class?"

Neil only glared and turned red, immediately chastising himself.

Charlie wouldn't have turned red. Charlie would have laughed and leered and grinned and gotten the girl in the end anyway.

The relief bell caused everyone to scatter and scurry toward class. Neil noticed Elizabeth pick up a ratty notebook from the ground and tuck it between her school books, then running to catch up with the others. Sauntering behind the group, the dark eyed boy glanced through ebony lashes at his friends. Knox took half of the girl's books from her, only to have her scowl and snatch them back. Knox only laughed and flung an arm around her as Pitts asked her a question. Neil watched her smile.

He noticed the twinge in his stomach was back.


	7. Invisible Colours

Sitting alone in his room, Todd wrote on a blank page in his notebook designated for trigonometry. _SEIZE THE DAY!_ the page shouted back at him. But he needed to seize his chemistry homework.

How could he seize anything, anyway? That required courage, and the ability to not care what others thought of him. Neither was a quality he possessed.

Neil, on the other hand, would be able to do anything he wanted. He didn't care what anyone thought. Same with Charlie.

No wonder they were such friends, Todd mused. They were so alike. There was no way they'd ever talk to him out of anything more than begrudging duty. He wasn't the type that could fit in easily in their crowd.

When Neil first introduced himself, Todd stuttered as per usual. Of course, it didn't help that his brother was brought up nearly two sentences into their conversation. Todd figured Neil Perry would just be another one to add to the list of Jeffery admirers/Todd ignorers, which was fine, he supposed, since that was the list pretty much everyone was on. Todd had had a tiny hope that his roommate, at least, would grow to appreciate his silence, his shyness, and maybe even try to save him from disappearing altogether. But it was a hope that vanished quickly, after he met the others. And Neil's father.

That had been another sad idea Todd had clung to. That he would meet someone who wasn't conquered and led by their fathers' dreams. He'd thought that Neil, with his proud posture and shining, happy eyes, was one of those few boys who ran their own lives. That, too, had been another short-lived dream.

So really, even if Neil didn't already think his roommate was horribly weak and dull, he couldn't save Todd. Neil needed to be saved, himself.

Todd sighed to himself. He'd been asked earlier to join the study group. To participate in the reindeer games. But he knew it was out of pity, so he had declined, just like he had said no to joining them after lunch. He hated it when he was talked to out of pity. It was, to him, worse than being ignored entirely. Besides, had he gone to the group, he would have stayed in the corner and been overlooked anyway.

Instead, at quarter to six, he sat in his room by himself, staring at the words written in front of him, wondering if he had allergies because it was suddenly hard to breathe.

It wasn't as if he was missing anything. He was pretty well off scholastically by himself. And Knox wasn't even going to be there, he'd heard.

Knox. The thought of the boy automatically trailed to the tall boy's friend, the new girl. Of course, all girls were new. At least that was one thing Todd had in common with them, but that was about it.

Girls made him trip over his tongue even more than boys did. He had sat next to Elizabeth in trig that very day, and had abstained from making a comment when she blessed his sneeze (for no one would bless _him_). He'd only turned red and looked away, pretending the whole thing never happened. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen Neil turn around and look at him. His skin turned a darker shade of cherry. He suddenly wasn't invisible anymore. In the back of his mind he cried out, but remained silent in the classroom.

He decided to switch seats in that class.

But then, right after, in English, there she was again. He knew Whitman, he wanted to say it so badly, to prove he wasn't worthless. But she beat him to it, albeit softly. He wondered if she was shy, too, though obviously less so than he. He wondered if she had stayed up night after night, too, sneaking into her father's study to read poems by the lamplight. He wondered if she was as fascinated with the homosexual under/overtones as he was; a whole lifestyle he'd never really considered.

Knox had talked about her at lunch that day. He reassured everyone that his relationship with the girl was completely platonic, and Todd had to admit to himself that it made him feel a little better. He worried about her, just as we worried about all of the girls. He was sure they were safe for the most part, but some of the more zealous boys made him worry about the well being of the girls. He'd never talk to one, no doubt, but he could at least keep an eye out for her.

Right, because if something were wrong, he could just jump right in there and save the day, couldn't he? He snorted. Hardly. Todd was not only a disappointment to his family, but to himself as well.

Todd glanced up to his wall, where a small map of the United States was posted near a photograph of a crew on the water. He glared at the map, angry that the pastel coloured shapes of the states were merely that, and didn't show the real country at all. He'd never really traveled, aside from school events that were never far. And he'd never seen the ocean. The baby blue mass on the map was, he was sure, nowhere near the true colour of the water.

For a few moments, he thought on colour. There didn't seem to be any at Welton, or at least certainly not on the inside. The greys of the sweaters, bronze in the trophy case, black and white in the photographs – they all seemed to mesh together to form a depressing blur. Outside, though was another tale. Autumn was being both cruel and kind to the imprisoned boys. The vibrancy of the outdoors was enough to energize anyone out of bed. Once up, however, they had to spend the days in musty classrooms, glancing longingly out the windows, envious of the squirrels.

That was another reason he liked Neil. The light in his eyes was enough to bring the most depressed out of their funk, which would be most helpful in the winter, when there was hardly any sun.

He wondered what colour Elizabeth's eyes were.


	8. Hunger

His heart pounded on the car ride back to his sophisticated jailhouse. Still a nervous wreck, just from the mere memory of her, Knox wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his trousers.

He didn't know how long she and Chet Danburry had been dating. He didn't know how attached she was to the palooka. Hell, Knox probably couldn't tell anyone the time at that particular moment. But he did know one thing.

He was going to marry her.

Knox smiled to himself. He couldn't wait to tell Lizzy. The guys would be sympathetic, he was sure, but nobody understood matters of the heart quite like a woman.

Hager managed to not say anything during the ride back, though he must have noticed the pupil acting strangely. Knox must have spaced out during the short trip, for they were back at Hell-ton in no time. Heart pounding like a jackhammer, Knox traveled up the stairs on anxious legs. He wondered if he could wander into the girl's division and talk to Lizzy. Judging by the glare Hager gave him when he hesitated by the door leading to the girl's rooms, probably not. Pity.

They only had about five more minutes until dispersal anyway. He only had a few moments to share his woeful tale with the others, carefully studying and diligently expanding their minds whilst Knox's heart raged in turmoil. (It was amazing what manic-depressiveness a girl made one capable of.) They clucked in sympathy, just as he suspected. Cameron wanted to do math (does he ever think about something other than homework?). Pitts looked genuinely sad (but, Knox noted, he looked like that a lot). Neil understood (Neil always understands). Charlie made the required lewd comment (what conversation would be complete without one).

For the first time that year (though the school year was only a day or so old), Knox was glad he wasn't placed as Charlie's roommate again. He knew the other boy was likely to give him hell for falling in love, and he'd rather not be around such criticism twenty-four/seven. As Hopkins turned the lights out that night after fitting on some last-minute Latin, Knox put his hands beneath the flat pillow and sighed to the ceiling. The dull plaster seemed to have as much empathy for his lovelorn situation as Charlie.

Ugh. He needed to talk to Lizzy.

Resigning himself to the fact that he was not going to get any quality sleep that night, the sandy-haired boy rolled onto his stomach and willed the scratchy fabric of the pillow to suffocate him to put him out of his misery.

It must have listened to his silent pleas, because suddenly Knox found he couldn't breathe. A huge weight had been placed directly on his back and insisted on squeezing the air out of him. Terrified, heart pounding once again (did it ever stop doing that, he wondered), Knox rolled over, knocking the weight towards the wall where it promptly and noisily hit it's head.

Wait… head?

Wincing, Elizabeth rubbed the side of her head. "Jesus, Knox, do you always know how to treat a girl right?" she whispered.

He blinked owlishly. "Lizzy?"

She nodded. "In the flesh," she said, still nursing her forming bruise.

"What the hell are you doing here? You can't be in here, I'm sure of it. If Hager comes in here-"

"Oh, don't get your panties in such a twist, boy. Relax, I'm better at sneaking around that you are. Or were, I'm not sure how good you are now," she added with a shrug.

A shifting from the other bed caught their attention as Hopkins sat up, eyeing the pair.

"Hey… Knox?"

Sigh. "Yeah?"

"Is that… a girl on your bed?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think we're supposed to have one of those."

"It's alright, Hopkins, because she's _not staying_," Knox replied, glaring at Elizabeth at the end of his sentence.

Said female held her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'm going." Hopkins nodded and lay back down. "But first I wanted to ask you something."

"Fine, what is it?"

"Where are the kitchens?"

Knox blinked again. Granted, he'd be doing that for a while, now, but this time he put emphasis into it. The stunned speechlessness helped get his reaction across, too. Kitchens?

"Well, they're certainly not in here."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I'm hungry."

"Still?"

The confusion switched hosts. "What do you mean, 'still'?"

On the other side of the room, Hopkins placed a pillow over his head.

"You used to always be eating. You were always hungry."

"Well, I have yet to find something filling, I guess. So I like to eat, big deal. Where are the kitchens?"

"You'll get in trouble if they catch you."

"Then I won't be caught."

"How'd you find me, anyway?"

A rolling of the eyes. "Your name is on the door, genius."

Blushing. "Oh. Right."

"Oh for – " Hopkins removed the un-muting pillow and sat back up in bed. "Go down to the first floor, take the hallway to the right. Go to the end, take another right, there's a door down there somewhere that goes to the kitchen – I forget which."

Elizabeth grinned, gave him a perky, "Thank you! At least _someone_ around her is helpful," stuck her tongue out at Knox and flounced – yes, flounced, albeit in a relatively stealthy way – out of the room.

Both Knox and Hopkins gave a sigh of relief at having not been caught and finally being rid of the over-perky creature.

Knox lay back down and closed his eyes. She had always been strange, that one.

He was about to nod off when suddenly his stomach growled. Loudly.

His eyes popped back open.

Great. Now he was hungry.

With a groan, he rolled onto his left side and pulled the blankets over his head.


	9. Talking Shoes

Man, there was no way he'd get there on time. Just no way.

He knew he should have stayed in bed that morning. He could have claimed illness and slept all day. But a flu on the second day of class? It was unlikely even Charlie would be able to pull that one off.

Todd groaned to himself as a peppy, runt-boy (who was also going to be late, by the way he was running) knocked half of Todd's things onto the waxed floor.

Great. Just great.

First, he couldn't find any of his socks and had to end up borrowing a pair of Neil's. Asking someone who was practically a stranger if he could borrow foot-clothes… Well, it took a lot of energy to get up the courage to ask. And he didn't even have to. Neil had noticed his roommate standing in the middle of their room in bare feet, looking confused.

"Come on, we're going to be late," he had said. Todd had turned red and looked down, willing his feet into stockings. And perhaps some shoes, too.

Without another word, Neil had tossed a folded pair of dark blue socks onto Todd's bed and gave an understanding smile. He had then scooped up an armful of books before leaving the room. He figured his half-mute rooming partner would be more embarrassed if Neil had stuck around as he put on a strange boys' socks.

After the sock incident, it had all gone downhill for Todd. He had missed breakfast, gotten reprimanded for forgetting his Latin workbook and now he was definitely going to be late for English. And he didn't even sit in the back, so there was no way he'd be able to sneak in without being noticed.

He was always noticed when he wanted the attention least.

Forcing the choking feeling back ("Real men don't cry," said his father. "Your brother never cries"), he grabbed half-blindly at the stray papers he wasn't even entirely sure belonged to him.

Suddenly there were toes.

In black, freshly-polished shoes.

Girl shoes.

The shoes spoke to him as he stared. "Would you like some help?"

_Yes!_ His mind screamed to them. _So much, so much. Help. Please?_

His lips didn't move.

The shoes moved backwards, and for a moment he thought he had offended them, until suddenly there were knees, too.

He thought he'd feel a lot more awkward speaking to the knees.

Without waiting for an answer, feminine hands (they must have been in league with the feet) started stacking his scholastic supplies on top of the pile he had started.

There was a buzzing in his head. Todd went to shake his head to get rid of it until he realized it was the girl speaking to him.

Speaking to _him_.

"-believe the morning I've had. I should have just stayed in bed today, you know? Do you ever have those days?"

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to say that yes, he gets those days often. He wanted to at least nod. But mostly of all, he wanted to look up at her.

So he did.

Elizabeth's eyes were green, he noticed.

She grinned at him, placing his pencil on top of the pile with flourish, like it was a cherry on a sundae. She gathered her own things and stood, dusting her knees off with her left hand. Todd stood slowly, as if any sudden movement would frighten her off.

"Come on," she said. "If we're going to be late, we should at least be late together." Elizabeth started walking. Todd followed silently. Walking quickly, she continued, "I hate walking in by myself when everyone else is already there. Especially if it's already silent. 'Cause then it's like no matter how hard I try to tiptoe my way to my seat, my shoes squeak, or the fabric of my clothes rustles, and I just can't be silent. And then it's like they're all staring, you know? I hate that feeling."

Todd allowed himself a small smile. He did know. That was how he felt just about every second of every day. He also loved how she kept rattling on, as if she knew he wasn't comfortable enough to speak. But, he also knew, she would be one of the first to listen when he did.

Elizabeth turned to look at the silent boy to be sure he was keeping up with her fast scuttle-pace. He wasn't looking at her but the floor, with a ghost of a smile on his face.

She smiled, too, and scuttled a little faster.

The halls were mostly clear and the bell had rung by the time the odd pair had reached the door to Keating's classroom. Elizabeth flung open the door with no inhibition and swept into the room.

Todd was surprised. She certainly didn't seem as shy as she said she was. Head down, he shut the door silently behind himself and made his way quietly to his seat.

Elizabeth slowed her pace as she rounded the corner by Charlie's desk. He was slouched in his chair and doodling in a notebook. As she walked past his desk, she noticed what, exactly, he was drawing.

Her steps paused, she arched an eyebrow at his rendition of a pair of woman's breasts. Noticing the sudden presence, Charlie looked up and met her gaze with no shame.

Elizabeth smirked.

"That's not what you think they really look like, is it?"

He grinned as she turned and walked to her desk two seats in front of him.

Todd, having heard the exchange on the way to his own desk, blushed completely and ducked his head.

Knox, having eavesdropped on the min-conversation, turned around to see what Charlie had been doing. Seeing the drawing, he laughed aloud.

Neil, having watched the tête-à-t;ête, allowed a smile to grace his face as he glanced at the girl next to him.

Elizabeth, having given her wise-ass comment, grinned to herself. Indeed, her brothers would be proud.

Just then, Keating gave his grand entrance from the sneak-attack front room.

Class. Right.


	10. Answers and an Echo

The class had been dismissed minutes ago, and the majority of Keating's students had gone on their way. A few, however, remained. They had not stayed behind to get an answer to a scholastic question, but rather were astounded at the answers they had just been given.

Neil didn't want to leave the room. Keating had cornered him, pinned him, could tell everything about Neil's life with a simple glance, Neil was sure of it. As a true professor, Keating knew. He knew his students needed this hope. It was a small bit of light in the dreary academy, but it was the first Neil had seen in all of his years of attending, and he didn't want to lose it. After the powerful huddle, he had returned to his seat and promised himself to always listen to this man who knew everything. He promised himself not to let this feeling go.

It seemed that the rest of his friends had been just as stunned into silence as he had. Even Charlie was still sitting, he noticed, although Charlie looked less contemplative and more devious, like he had found someone to con into giving him the key to the faculty lounge.

Neil looked around, taking in the others' reactions to the unique class they'd just had. Cameron had already darted on, naturally, but Meeks was sitting in Cam's seat, just in front of Neil, glancing around as well. Knox had a half-smile and a dozy look; the look the others had deemed "The Chris Gaze."

What surprised Neil the most was the presence of two others. Todd and Elizabeth, the Two Enigmas as far as Neil was concerned. He could only see the back of his roommate's head, but Todd seemed to be staring, completely stationary. A peek to his left allowed him to see the girl writing like mad in her non-scholastic notebook she seemed so fond of.

He recalled she had been one of the first to rip out her pages; second only to Charlie. He also remembered very well that she had leaned in over his shoulder during the gathering in the middle of the classroom. And that she had recited the Whitman poem along with Keating. Well-read she did seem to be.

Just as soon as he had finished his thought, her writing hand froze and she glanced over at him. Neil's heart pounded and his limbs started to go numb, the way they did when he was nervous. But he met her gaze straight on, summoning any part of Charlie that had rubbed off on him, ready for anything.

But she only grinned and turned back to her writing.

Behind him, Pitts' stomach growled loudly enough to echo in the mostly barren classroom.

Knox laughed. "As much as I love this conversing with our most inner true selves, I'm going to agree with Pitts and say it's time for some food. All of this thinking has made me tired."

"Out of practice, I suppose," came the response from Elizabeth, without a pause in her writing.

"I wouldn't doubt it," added Charlie, stretching as he stood. "C'mon, let's get there before we get stuck with the leftovers."

Neil shuddered at the idea of the food being worse than it already was.

Everyone stood with the exception of the Two Enigmas. Todd continued to stare whilst Elizabeth continued to write.

Knox leaned over her shoulder. "Whatcha got there, Liz?"

She shrugged. "Just things from class that made me think. Random things I found related somehow. Just ideas. Words. I sort them all out later."

Knox leaned in closer and, when his friend gave no objection, started to read pieces he found. "'No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.'" He smiled and read another line. "'Answer: That you are here. That life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.'"

"The human race is filled with passion," she added, writing the phrase as she said it, as if just remembering.

Knox just shook his head. "Take a break, will you? Come to dinner with us. Bring your notebook if you like. You'll need some sustenance to keep that lovely brain of yours working," he laughed, putting his hand on her head.

She rolled her eyes and swatted his had away, closing her books and stacking them. "Fine, I shall grace you fine gentlemen with my presence, but let's just keep it in mind that _I'm_ doing _you_ a favour, shall we?" she grinned.

Charlie strutted up to Elizabeth and gave her what Neil thought to be a rather impressive bow and offered his left arm to her. "Shall we, m'lady?"

Neil punched down that damn stomach monster of his once again as she accepted with a character curtsey.

Knox chuckled and held out his invisible sword. "Halt! Thou art stealing my lady. I shalt fight to the death to defend her honour. Eth." He added a 'hee.' "It rhymed!"

Pitts raised an eyebrow. "And who are you supposed to be?"

With a scoff that said, 'well, _duh_,' Knox replied, "I am, of course, the King of Welton-Land, and my bride is being stolen by my court jester!"

Outraged at being dubbed the jester, Charlie puffed up (like those fish, Neil noted) and nearly defended himself until Elizabeth interrupted. "Oh, please, I could kick both of your butts any day."

It was Meek's turn to roll his eyes. "Let's get going, clowns," he said as he and Pitts headed for the door. Neil turned to the back of his roommate's head, which seemed lower than before due to the slouching of the body it was attached to.

"Let's go, Todd. You're coming, too."

Meanwhile, in Todd's head, there were thoughts of embarrassment at being caught at being a space case as well as thoughts of gratitude that his roommate left no room to argue. Face burning yet again (they were going to start thinking red was his natural colour, he was sure of it), he gathered his things and left the room with a group of people who could, one day, be his friends. He kept his head down and watched _those shoes_ walking ahead of him, and listened to her being informed by the rest of the guys about Knox's new love, though they knew as much as Elizabeth did, really. He heard Neil saying he wanted to go to the library first, and he'd meet them there, and to save him a seat.

Todd doubted very much that Neil's friends would ever need to be reminded to save a seat for their leader.


	11. Planted

Over their dinner (which could have been lasagna in a past, traumatic life), the old group plus two laughed at and speculated about their strange new teacher's past. Neil had borrowed an old yearbook from the library in the hopes of insight. They ended up with more questions than answers, and Charlie was the one to decide to ask Keating himself as soon as they could.

"We'll do it during our walk," Neil added. "It's too nice out for anyone not to go out there. Keating will be out there for sure. Seizing the fresh air and all." He pointed at Todd. "You're coming." It wasn't a question, but not quite a demand, either. He knew he'd have to practically force Todd into socializing, and the guys needed to get used to Todd's presence. Neil wanted him to stay.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Let me know what he says, will you? I can't go. I've got to practice."

There was a chorus of disappointment, though, really, most of the boys wanted it to be the group minus the girl. Even Charlie wanted to escape estrogen for a few minutes to give himself time to regroup. Only Neil was truly disappointed, but he refused to show it.

Instead, with an understanding nod, he said, "Sure, no problem," just as the bell rang again. She smiled at him, showing off her very straight teeth, gathered her things and walked away from the table. She tossed a "See you guys later" over her shoulder and ignored Knox's question about what kind of practice it was, anyway.

Not wanting to miss his big oppourtunity to question the questioner, and the chance to get him mind off of a certain female, Neil snatched the annual from Cameron and started outside, not waiting for anyone else. Dead Poets Society. This was too good to pass up.

The other six (Todd came, he noted gleefully) joined him on his pursuit of their English teacher. The leaves crunched under their feet, making their approach obvious along with his calls, but Keating never turned.

_If you're daring_, he had said. Neil puffed his chest out. He could be daring. "Oh Captain, My Captain?" Keating turned. Ah.

The boys watched anxiously as Keating knelt toward the autumn-damp earth and reminisced of people he had long since forgotten about. Neil looked around and noticed no one else seemed to want to know as much as he did. Licking his chapped lips, he asked the question that started it all.

Joining Keating on the ground, he queried, "What was the Dead Poets Society?"

And oh, the look Keating gave him. Neil knew something huge was about to happen.

Keating planted to seed: "I doubt the present administration would look too favourably upon that."

Which he knew, of course, would only make the curiosity worse. He was the teacher, they were the students. To them, he knew everything. It was the beginning of a manipulation that would be well played out. The boys would figure it out, of course. Especially Neil, he was a bright one. And perhaps it was wrong of Keating to put such strong thoughts into seven, impressionable teenage boys, but the Society had been his own reason for getting up everyday and he wanted to bestow that gift upon the new generation.

So when Neil asked again, "Why? What was it?" he knew it had to be done.

The boys – Neil, especially – were trying to act nonchalant about it, but Keating could see the burning hope in their eyes. He was a teacher, it was his job to notice those things in order to truly affect anyone.

He looked each of them in the eyes, one by one – a dramatic pause, certainly – before asking, "Gentlemen, can you keep a secret?"

Without a word, they gave him their complete attention in yet another huddle. Moving in, not wanting to miss a word. So he delivered.

"The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life," he started. Thoreau, meetings at Indian Cave, reading old poetry, new poetry, magic.

Knox squinted against the sun, not understanding. Keating was more than happy to clarify.

"...And we didn't just _read_ poetry; we let it drip from our tongues like honey. Spirits soared, women swooned and gods were created, gentlemen." He certainly noticed the interest in the swooning women. "Not a bad way to spend an evening, eh?"

They all smiled placidly enough, but John Keating knew enough to know when he caught his audience's attention.

He handed back his old annual to the ringleader and made a light comment, seeing how most chuckled, but Perry was still truly considering possibilities.

Keating resumed his whistling and walked away, his steps lighter than before and delighted when he faintly heard Neil say, "I say we go tonight."

Whistling is difficult whilst grinning, he found.

He was glad he remembered where he'd put that book.


	12. Rebellion

Neil had always sucked at reading maps

Neil had always sucked at reading maps. As he swatted Todd's shoulder, informing his roommate of his inclusion (whether he liked it or not), Neil felt his left eye twitch. _Oh, please let me know where I'm going_. Signal the others in the hallway. Ignore Hager's curious eyes following him into his room.

Luckily, the crotchety man's attentions were diverted by the kazoo in the bathroom: "Cut out that racket in there." A rude note. Todd ducked his head and brushed his way out of the washroom, not wanted to be affiliated with the noise-makers. He saw Cameron give Neil a thumbs-up just before his roommate closed their door. Pausing awkwardly, Todd stared at the small placards baring his name and Neil's. _My room, too_. With a hard swallow, he opened the door quietly and padded in.

At his desk, Neil held open a hefty tome, a grin on his face.

Todd managed a smile, too. "Going to read your trig to us?"

Neil wheeled around, alarmed by the obscenely quiet other boy. Good. Todd should be able to sneak out with them just fine. "Todd! Check this out." He thrust the book, open to Keating's handwriting, into Todd's hands. "The man's a genius. He knew all along, the sly devil." Neil giggled his giddiness out of his system. He wanted to be extra-cool tonight; Dead Poet leaders probably didn't giggle, and he needed to set a good example if he was to get the guys to agree to this sort of thing on a regular basis.

As his roommate checked his flashlight battery once more and debated the laughing habits of Whitman (and Keating), Todd ran his right index finger down the page: _I wanted to live deliberately…_

"This is wrong."

Neil turned back around. "What?"

Todd glanced up, wide-eyed. Oops. He hadn't meant to say that. "N-nothing." He closed the book and handed it back. Neil's curious eyes expected more.

"No, what did you mean?"

Mouth dry, Todd backed into his own desk, turned around, and pretended to busy himself with arranging his scholastic literature. "N-nothing. It's just… the quote. I mean, i-it's nice, but it isn't a direct quote. All from the same part, though. So it doesn't matter."

"How do you know that?"

"I've r-read it."

Neil held back a hoot. Hooting during quiet hours was generally frowned upon. "And you have it _memorized_? Todd! You're brilliant! You're the next Mister Keating!" He playfully tugged Todd's neck, putting him into a headlock, and ruffled his roommate's hair. Torn between freezing until the moment was over and attempting to fight back, Todd decided on nudging an elbow into Neil's ribs with a shy laugh.

"Ge'roff," the blond mumbled, secretly loving the attention. With one final ruffle, the grinning Neil retreated, gathered his travel robes, brand-new old book, and flashlight, and perched on his bed for the designated time. Hopefully Charlie had gotten the canine treats, or Mitchell, the snitching golden retriever would cause trouble for the Dead Poet Society and they'd be… well, dead.

Twenty-three minutes later, Neil waved Todd to the door before turning off their light and poking his head out. Charlie, across the hall, grinned back.

Time for some thrilling heroics.

One by one, the boys crept down the hallway toward the stairs, pausing to clatter a handful of treats onto the floor for Mitch-the-Snitch before descending the staircase. Neil and Charlie led the way, followed by Meeks, Cameron, and Todd, with Knox and Pitts closing doors softly behind them.

Just before they went around the corner before the doors to the courtyard, Neil stopped suddenly, holding up a hand to silence the others. Charlie slammed into him, and he dropped the flashlight.

"What'd you stop for?" Charlie hissed. Meeks sighed behind him.

Neil turned to glare through the dark at the half-silhouette of his friend. "I heard something, which has now _definitely_ heard _us_, thanks to you."

"Guys, shut up," Cameron panicked.

"Telling someone to shut up doesn't work half so much as actually _shutting up_," Pitts informed him in a whisper-shout. He should have stayed in bed.

Once the boys managed to stop bickering long enough to discern any other sounds, only the distant rustling of a dog's licking itself could be heard echoing down the stairwell. Exhaling shakily, Neil stepped around the corner.

And ran into a wall.

The wall gasped and stumbled backward.

Shaking his head (which hadn't been hit by the… short wall?), Neil peered into the shadows. A Cheshire-grin in the moonlight, vaguely surrounded by a pale face, greeted him. The figure stepped into the light from the window.

"_Lizzy_?"

The girl wheezed a quiet giggle. "You boys should never lead lives of crime. You'd never make it."

"What are you doing down here?" He felt the others join him around the corner of the wall.

Elizabeth, dressed half in nightclothes and half in the school uniform, held her hands behind her back and adopted an innocent gaze. "Nothing. You?"

Neil glanced behind him at the others, stunned silent, dressed in their outdoor cloaks. Neil still grasped Five Centuries of Verse and a flashlight. He stared back. "Nothing."

Pause.

"Okay. See you guys later."

"Yeah. See you."

Nobody moved.

Elizabeth turned abruptly and headed back in the other direction, despite the fact it was the entire opposite from the way she wanted.

The boys made their way outside and shook of their confusion into the cool air nibbling their ears. Night-dew on the grass kicked up into a vapor of rebellion. By the time they found the cave, no one remembered the girl creeping around the first floor of Hell-ton.


End file.
